when gods slumber
by TenTenD
Summary: "You would rather see it all crumble to dust?" His uncle demanded less than surprised. Jon kept a pleasant expression upon his face, content to allow the other his little speech. "These are your people as well. Whatever your quarrel with His Majesty, you do not cut the nose to spite the face." AU!


"You would rather see it all crumble to dust?" His uncle demanded less than surprised. Jon kept a pleasant expression upon his face, content to allow the other his little speech. "These are your people as well. Whatever your quarrel with His Majesty, you do not cut the nose to spite the face."

"There is no need for me to intervene. My brother has the situation well in hand." It brought him no great pleasure to see his fellow man rotting away in death, but Aegon had been clear. "My hands are tied."

Eddard Stark cast him a dark look. "Pray your unwillingness to aid does not bear fruit."

Much too late for that.

* * *

Ghost rested his head in Dany's lap, allowing her to comb her fingers through his fur. Jon watched the two without saying anything. Nevertheless, much of his attention was taken by her earlier words. Daenerys cooed down at the creature.

He did not wish to go. "Might be 'tis simply how I am."

She looked up, her stare knowing. "That is no excuse. The man is not more important than the prince."

"The man controls the prince," he opinionated sullenly, aware that it was a useless debate. "My mind is made up."

"Aegon was wrong; isn't the moral high ground enough for you?"

It might have been, once upon a time.

* * *

They stood together before their father's remnants. Jon glanced at his brother, uncertain of how to proceed. The man had sought him out, yet seemed equally unsure. The silence stretched out between them.

Aegon sat down first, the folds of his heavy robes flowing like a dark liquid. His eyes were drawn to the contrast. Light and dark. Good and evil. Aegon and Jon. If only it were so easy. "What do you wish me to do, Your Majesty?"

His brother chuckled. "You needn't pretend it matters to you."

"Good." He sat down as well, stretching one leg forth. His heel pinned the corner of the robes to the ground.

* * *

T

he Dowager Queen glanced from one to the other, her striking gaze bearing down heavily upon both. Or so Jon hoped. Ashara Dayne shook her head. "Your father believed that the both of you would avoid the pitfalls of court. Aegon, you are my king; but you are my son as well. As a mother, I tell you, you are not above reproach. Jon, as heir apparent, you too must look beyond the petty squabbles generated by a few disgruntled individuals. I expected better. The realm deserves better." Her hands folded neatly before her. "It would behove you to reconsider." The Dowager Queen offered a brief smile. And thus they were summarily dismissed.

* * *

"You did not have to bring Lady Ashara into this," Jon told Daenerys, holding her wrist in a tight grip. "Not very well done of you, aunt."

"Not very bright of you to ignore your duty, nephew. You left me little choice." Sometimes he forgot that in spite of her soft-spoken nature, the woman was not like to give an inch if she thought herself in the right. "I will not apologise."

"I have no wish for an apology. I simply want you to cease intervening in matters which do not concern you."

"And there you are wrong. It does concern me." He did not dare ask why. She might go on to tell him.

* * *

Ghost growled low in his throat, a menacing stare to match trained on the approaching figure. For his part, Jon patted the creature's head, shushing him as best he could. "Must you keep it so close?" Aegon motioned to the direwolf.

"Your Majesty has a blade. I've Ghost. 'Tis all as it should be."

"My blade is not like to jump at the throat of a man unexpectedly."

"Neither is Ghost. He'll give warning aplently."

His brother frowned. "Sometimes I think you take enjoyment in vexing me." Their stare met and held. Jon intentionally gave him a cold smile. Sometimes he did believe he took great pleasure in vexing him. Aegon took a step back.

* * *

"Do you remember her?" the woman questioned. Her eyes were pinned upon the painting. Jon did not need to look at the portrait. He'd not been that young when his mother had perished. "After my daughter died she kept close at my side. For a time it hurt, seeing a woman so pleased with her child when I'd just lost my own."

She never did quite manage to give her husband a child. Which rather put his father ill-at-ease, as far as Jon could tell. The man's heart had been set on another daughter. Instead he'd found himself a caring mother for his children. "It was all so long ago."

* * *

Heavy movement without the door woke him. Jon turned on his side, alert. His hand searched instinctively for the dagger he kept beneath his pillows, wrapping his fingers around the hilt. Ghost stood by the door, silent and watchful. He slid from beneath the covers, feet meeting the coolness of bare stone beneath them. Involuntarily, he shivered.

Another sound came from behind the door. Jon tensed, bringing the weapon in proper position for a damaging stab. He He took a deep breath, straining to make out whatever it was that went on beyond the barrier of wood. That was it. That had to be it.

Aught like a curse pierced the silence.

* * *

"Don't, Jon. Don't." Dany sank her nails into the thin cloth covering his flesh. Were he not wounded, he might have pushed her away a lot fiercer. "It shan't win you a thing. I am begging you."

"The King is calling me." He reached for the brooch she'd gifted him with long ago.

"You've ignored his summons before. You can do so one more time."

"The last time you were counselling that I make my peace with him. And now you do not wish me to?"

"Not at the cost of your life. Jon, be reasonable."

"I am. I am doing my duty. As you wished. As Her Grace, the Dowager Queen wished."

* * *

He placed the cup to his lips and took a sip of the wine. The sweet tang of poison burned against his tongue. It very nearly sickened him. That his own brother would so easily and carelessly allow for such a plot; it hurt. He'd much have preferred a bloody death. At least that way there would be no misunderstanding between them.

He downed his cup and placed it upon the table. Blood clogged his throat, coughs bringing little relief.

Faintly, he heard his uncle's voice. Lady Ashara he saw a faint shadow of. He never heard Aegon though. And it could well be faith was being merciful; yet he still perceived it as cruelty.


End file.
